


I'm sorry, dear

by Lola_Rose_Robins



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hypnosis, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Temporary Character Death, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola_Rose_Robins/pseuds/Lola_Rose_Robins
Summary: Crowley’s hand plunged deep into the angel’s chest, found his heart and squeezed. He didn’t know this angel, all he knew was that he had to kill him. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling, deep inside, that something was so terribly wrong. Why can’t I stop? Please, just let me stop, I’m not a killer! Nothing worked, the thoughts were pushed deep down inside, it was almost as if someone else was controlling his actions.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 20





	I'm sorry, dear

**Author's Note:**

> https://youtu.be/ZwOa768D7Io 
> 
> This is what the first part is about. You don't need it to read this story, but it does set a mood.
> 
> tw: apart from the fighting and death mentioned in the tags, there is like one borderline suicidal thought. Just a little heads up.

Aziraphale felt the cold, hard floor underneath him. He opened his eyes and looked around, the room was dark and this wasn’t helped by the fact that every surface seemed to be made of black marble. He could vaguely see a tall, lanky figure standing across the room,

“Crowley?”

Aziraphale pushed himself off the floor and got to his feet. The figure was indeed Crowley, but something was off, he seemed mad. Suddenly Aziraphale remembered what had happened, the body swap. Gabriel and Beelzebub had found out what they did. Oh, they must have punished Crowley in ways Aziraphale could not even begin to imagine.

“Crowley! What did they do to you dear? I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you.”

That seemed to hit something within Crowley, and he briefly went back to his old self, recognition flashing in his eyes. A snap off to the side, however, and Crowley went mad again.

——

Beelzebub looked at the interactions between the angel and Crowley, they seemed so genuine, something they themself had once felt, something they had lost in the fall, “should we really be doing this?” They asked.

“Why? Wait, you’re feeling sorry‽ For _them‽_ ” Gabriel practically snarled as he looked over at the two rebels, “we’re punishing them, Beel, punishment is supposed to hurt _them_ , not us, get it together!”

Gabriel turned back towards Crowley and Aziraphale. Even just _looking_ at them interacting, touching, hugging, it was making his stomach churn. He slowly raised his hand, waiting for the demon to notice so he could watch the panic in his eyes. There it was, one last pleading look on the demon’s face. Gabriel snapped his fingers and watched with delight as the panic turned to fear turned to nothing, he watched the eyes change colour, he watched as Crowley transformed and turned into the serpent he really was.

It would only take one order to end it now, but why not enjoy a good show first.

The snake turned towards Aziraphale and lashed out, biting him in the shoulder and tossing him across the room. The angel was nothing to him, just prey, just a toy. For some reason the snake did feel slightly reluctant to kill him, _not yet, later._

——

_What’s this, why am I a snake now?_ Crowley changed into his human form and looked around for Aziraphale, his eyes found his friend lying on the floor on the other side of the room, struggling to get up. _What’s up with his shoulder?_ He noticed the teeth marks, _shit, angel!_ Despite his injuries, Aziraphale came running up to him, frantically apologising. Shouldn’t _he_ be the one to apologise?

A soft voice started in the back of his mind, “kill him,” _what, no!_ But the voice only grew louder, the impulse stronger, Crowley tried to fight it, he really did. Suddenly, Aziraphale was holding Crowley’s hand to his chest, it helped. Crowley calmed down and looked his angel in the eyes, nearly getting lost in them, he leaned into the soft touch of Aziraphale’s hand on his cheek. Then he remembered with a start where they were and turned pleading eyes to Gabriel and Beelzebub.

Only, Beelzebub had left, they could no longer bear to watch. Crowley may have been a rebel, but as he had always said, ‘they loved him down there’, that had not been a lie.

Gabriel, however, was still standing, watching. A smirk played across his lips as he snapped his fingers again and finally gave the order he had been wanting to give for a while now, “kill him.”

Crowley’s hand plunged deep into the angel’s chest, found his heart and squeezed. He didn’t know this angel, all he knew was that he had to kill him. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling, deep inside, that something was so terribly wrong. _Why can’t I stop? Please, just let me stop, I’m not a killer!_ Nothing worked, the thoughts were pushed deep down inside, it was almost as if someone else was controlling his actions.

Gabriel had seen enough and turned around, making sure to lift the spell.

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale as he was dying in his arms, his hand still stuck in his chest. He sank to his knees, laying Aziraphale down and quickly pulled his hand out. As he saw what he had done, what he had been forced to do, he instinctively pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle the screams and the crying. _Don’t let them hear you, don’t let them see your weakness. Well, they’d bloody well found it now, hadn’t they._ Crowley felt a slightly burning warmth radiating off his hand and held it out to look. The soft, fading light of Aziraphale’s grace was stuck to it. Crowley turned his gaze towards his angel and saw the same glowing light flowing out of his mouth, like blood would with a human. He pulled Aziraphale close to his chest and cried into his hair, he didn’t care if it burned, he didn’t care if anyone saw them now. All he cared about was Aziraphale, all he cared about was his angel. With his last strength, Aziraphale lifted a hand to cup Crowley’s cheek. One last time they looked into each other’s eyes, one last time Crowley would see his angel smile.

Aziraphale’s hand fell to the floor, but Crowley refused to let him go. Even when his body had become cold, Crowley still sat there.

A light came on in a corner of the room, illuminating a single bathtub. Crowley obviously knew what was in it. Maybe getting in a bathtub of holy water was not such a bad idea now. It’d be simple, he could just end it all, no more pain, no more suffering, nothing else he could fuck up then. Crowley staggered towards the bathtub in a daze, carrying Aziraphale’s body with him. He didn’t care about the grace that was burning through his skin, causing permanent stains, he didn’t even feel it, and even if he did, it felt like Aziraphale.

Crowley stood at the edge of the tub, still holding his angel in his arms, he was just about to step in when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned around to see Beelzebub, with the most apologetic look on their face he had ever seen on a demon. Beelzebub led him to a door, hidden in a shadowy corner of the room, “go.”

——

Crowley placed Aziraphale’s body on the couch in the backroom of the bookshop and sat down on the floor next to it. Finally he allowed his emotions to come out. Time stopped and started again in a pattern that was seemingly random, and books started flying off the shelves and hitting the walls, all the while Crowley was screaming his lungs out.

Some of the neighbours actually heard the noise and had called the police, but they found themselves unable to get into the bookshop.

When Crowley finally stopped to look around, his heart sank. He’d broken the books, he’d thrashed the bookshop, Aziraphale’s bookshop. He desperately tried to put the books back together, but the pages were scattered across the room and he didn’t want to leave his angel’s side to go look for them.

Crowley hadn’t noticed how tired he was, but now it hit him seemingly all at once. He climbed on the couch and curled up against his angel and fell asleep.

The next morning, when Crowley woke up, he went for a brief walk around the shop, not losing sight of Aziraphale. There was only one book still left on a shelf and he picked it up and took it with him to the back. _‘Abandon all hope’ well how nice, and fitting._ Crowley opened the book and started reading. After reading for about an hour, Crowley suddenly gasped loudly. In the book a spell was described, a spell that could summon death. What the heaven, it was worth a try. Didn’t even take too many ingredients; a sigil, some candle, a bowl of blood.

Crowley pushed all the furniture to the side of the room, to make space on the floor, before drawing the sigil, which the author had helpfully added in the book. Some candles were pretty easy to find, Aziraphale had a whole stash of those lying around! Now for the bowl of blood, Crowley grabbed a bowl, or the closest thing he could find, and opened up a vein in his arm.

Crowley spoke the incantation and waited. He was just about to give up, when, in a cloud of smoke, the horseman was standing before him.

“WHAT?” They asked.

“Give him back!”

“I CANNOT DO THAT.”

“Please…”

The horseman fell quiet, they hadn’t quite expected this behaviour from a demon. Death knew they couldn’t bring the angel back, his body was far too damaged to be of any use, but his soul hadn’t been collected yet, so it’s not like there would be any extra work…

“FINE. BUT I CANNOT USE THAT BODY, YOU WILL HAVE TO DO.”

Crowley didn’t have enough time to process what Death had just told him when suddenly the horseman was holding his head with both hands. Crowley felt the energy flowing into his body, something was changing. After that it was dark.

When Crowley woke up, Death had left the bookshop, he was alone yet again.

_What on earth happened here?_ A familiar voice sounded, Crowley spun around, expecting to see his angel standing there, but there was no one. _Crowley?_ Wait, Aziraphale was here, in his mind? That’s it, he’s losing his mind. Crowley headed for the back room, fully intent on getting drunk and forgetting everything that had happened in the past few days. When they passed a mirror, however, something in his body forced him to stop and look. It was quite the sight. His hair was still pretty much the same, save for the massive white streak that ran through it. His eyes were slightly different, one eye was still the yellow snake-eye he was used to, but the other one was now some kind of mixture between blue, green and hazel. The spots where Aziraphale’s grace had touched his skin were no longer burnt away, but were now merely patches that were slightly lighten in colour than the rest of his skin.

_Damn…_ two voices thought as one.

Crowley manifested his wings as an experiment, just to check. The regular black was gone, and was replaced by a soft grey. _Well, that’s a thing. That it is, dear._

So, now Crowley and Aziraphale were both inhabiting the same body, turns out it was possible after all. It’d take some getting used to, but for now, it was way better than the alternative. They spent the rest of the day cleaning up the bookshop and putting the books back together. But finally, they were done. They walked into the backroom and stopped dead in their tracks, _oh lord_.

They had both completely forgotten that Aziraphale’s body was still there, they still had to get rid of that.

——————

“Hello sir, license and registration please,” the cop asked. She had pulled the Bentley over for no apparent reason and Crowley made sure to convey his annoyance to her. Little did he know that she had received a call earlier, mentioning the Bentley’s number plate, something about suspicious behaviour and a package of a certain shape in the trunk.

“Please step out of the car, sir. Nothing to worry about, just a routine check,” she felt nervous as she said these words, but tried to hide it. She knew her colleagues were standing only a small distance away, ready to jump in should she be in danger. She pretended to check the seats, front and back, before moving towards the trunk. She glanced over at the driver, who had started sweating, something was definitely up. She opened the trunk.

——

“All I want to know, Anthony, why did you do it? What did Mr. Fell ever do to you?”

Crowley ignored the question, he didn’t have a good answer to that one.

“Look at me Anthony. We know you two had a massive fight yesterday, is that when it happened? Maybe it was just an accident? It’s fine, you can tell me, I just want to know the truth. What would make a man kill their boyfriend in such a brutal way?”

Crowley just glared up at the man, who was now sitting on the edge of the table, way too close for his liking, “personal space?”

“Of course,” the man moved away and went to sit down across the table instead.

“I didn’t mean to…” Crowley admitted, he tried to suppress the emotions in his voice.

“I get that, but I’m sure Mr. Fell would not have wanted you to dispose of his body like this now, would he?”

Crowley fell silent again, not because he had no answer, but because he was busy getting lost in his memories this time. Aziraphale decided he would try and clear things up.

“ _Well actually, I was the one to suggest it. We could hardly let my corporeal form just lay there and smell up the whole shop._ ”

_Aziraphale stop…_ ”I’m handling it, Aziraphale!”

“ _Oh, are you, dear. Get on with it then._ ”

“I will. Hey, where are you going all of a sudden?”

Detective Lowe rose from his chair and left the room, he had seen enough. He made straight for his office to make some calls, they’d need a psychiatrist to officially confirm his suspicions, but it was clear the guy had lost his mind. Such a shame his partner had to pay for the decline of his mental state though, but it happens and there’s not much he could do about it now. No reason to dwell on the past.

A power outage cut his phone-call short, thankfully he had just been about to hang up anyway. He slowly made his way back to the interrogation chamber, to check on the crazy guy. The lights came back on just as he opened the door, finding the room devoid of any redheaded murderer, “Well, shit.”

——

“Come on Aziraphale, we should get moving, they’ll find us if we stay here.”

“ _yes, yes, one second dear, just have to tidy up one last thing._ ” Aziraphale had been taking their body around the bookshop to make sure it was left behind in a good state, and to gather some of his favourite books that he would hate to see get sold off. “ _Alright, all done. Let’s go now, dear._ ”

Crowley took their body to the Bentley and got in the driver’s seat. He’d already changed the number plate and had added some small details that would make the car look different enough to get away with. Together they drove away, away from London, where they had spent so many years, off into the world. They had no home, no family, all they had left was each other and the car, and that was enough.


End file.
